“How do you know he’ll be there?”
West’s enormous shoulders gave a half shrug. “I just do. At least, I think I do.”
“Okay,” I said. I didn’t know if I could trust him, but something in his gaze and the way he held himself suggested I had no other option.
And if I was right about his experiences, maybe he was the person Danny needed to hear from. After all, if he was worried the team wouldn’t accept him, then who better to talk to him? It wasn’t like I had anything to add.
“What are you going to say?” I added.
West smiled. “I’m going to tell him the truth. That queer or not, he’s still our winger and we’ll still love him. Bad haircut, terrible moustache, bratty mouth, and all. Nothing’s gonna change.”
“Thank you.”
“No worries,” he said. “It’s what I’d have wanted someone to tell me.”
I nodded slowly, hating that my suspicions had been confirmed. “I’ll catch up,” I added, gesturing at the stairs.
“Sounds good,” West said as he pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and headed towards the door.
Anxiety pooled in my stomach, my feet almost frozen to the floor as indecision pulled at me. I knew what I had to do, and in principle it was simple: get my keys, dump my shitty coffee, get in my car, and go and find my man. But would that really be the best thing for Danny?
He was young and beautiful and full of joy—he deserved so much more than I could give him. Yes, it would hurt if I pulled away but maybe that would be for the best. He’d be able to comeout and find someone better, a man who had more to offer than sarcasm, sex, and scathing opinions on vodka.
It would hurt watching him fall in love with another man, but what was one more hurt? I could bear the pain. After all, it couldn’t be any worse than anything else I’d endured.
I shook my head and bent down to pick up Danny’s bag, which he’d left sitting on the floor, then turned and trudged up the stairs, glad nobody else was around to see me spiralling.
When I reached my office, I realised I’d left my phone on my desk, and when I tapped the screen, I saw a message from Shane. Something about him being bored at work and searching for new cabinets.
I put Danny’s bag on the floor, set my coffee on the desk, and unlocked the screen, meaning to dismiss the message. But instead, I opened it and hit the call button at the top, the last cry of a desperate part of my brain that was willing me not to give up.
“Hey,” Shane said as soon as I’d registered what I’d done. Fuck, I couldn’t hang up now because that would cause alarm. I’d have to make an excuse instead. “E? Are you there?”
“I fucked up, Shane. I fucked up massively and I don’t know what to do,” I said, flopping into my desk chair and spinning slowly. So much for making excuses and ending the call. But fuck it, if there was anyone who could help me, it was Shane. He’d already picked up the pieces of my life once before, and he knew me better than I knew myself. He was one of the only people I trusted.
But I couldn’t ask the other person because he was the one I needed advice about.
“It’s okay. Whatever happened, we can fix it, I’m sure. Unless you went back to Reed, then I’m not helping you. Shit, babe, please don’t tell me that’s what happened.”
“It’s not. It’s, er, fuck.” I sighed and ran my hand through my hair, bouncing my feet on the floor as I tried to get my words together.
“Take your time, but remember I can’t help you unless you tell me the problem.”
“I met someone. A player,” I said, waiting for Shane’s hiss of excitement or delighted cry ofI knew it, but all I got was a hum for me to continue. “It started a couple of months ago, just before preseason. That weekend you and Eric came down to see me, actually. He, er, he wanted someone to explore with and I, fuck, I gave in. I tried not to, but fuck, he’s gorgeous. Funny too. And bratty. He shines, Shane. It’s fucking electric. And we’ve been hooking up, spending some time together, all that shit, but he’s not out. And his teammate just found out, so he’s freaking out and I’m… I know I should go and talk to him, but I… fuck, I’m terrified. I’m getting all these feelings for him, and I shouldn’t. He’s twenty-four, Shane! He doesn’t need someone like me!”
“Like what? Why doesn’t he need you?” Shane asked, his voice cool and unimpressed.
“Because I’m not good for him! I’m too old and too fucked up. I don’t have anything to give him, and Danny… he deserves more than that. He deserves the fucking world.”
“Okay, and what about what he wants?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“Doesn’t he? Because if he’s old enough to have a professional rugby career, and old enough to make the choice to fuck you, multiple times, then he knows what he wants. And you don’t get to make that decision for him.”
“But—”
“No, no buts,” Shane said. “I’m sorry, babe, and I love you, but I am fresh out of fucks for your woe is me attitude! If this man is the reason you’ve been happier recently—which he mustbe because nothing else makes sense—then I’m not letting you ruin this by being a stubborn twat.”
